A Typical Day in the Life of Ronald Weasley
by CakeTwins
Summary: A peek into the daily life of Ron... One-shot.


**Author's Note: **So this isn't really much – I just felt like writing some Ron, because he's so much fun, and I've had this little idea about a "day in the life of such-and-such Weasley' series for a while… So while I'm still looking to get back on track with "My Fair Weasley" and "Puddlemere", here's a little diversion. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** JK Rowling and Warner Bros. are the owners of all Harry Potter related characters and situations not introduced by the author. (me) 

            Ron didn't even look up as she came into the room. He was (for perhaps the first time in his life) studying – well, he was frantically leafing through his Transfiguration book to find the unit that he was supposed to have learned for the test later that day. He didn't look up, but he knew it was her; she made that 'tutting' noise at him.

            "_What_?" he snarled.

            "What are you whatting me for? I haven't done a thing besides walk into the room!"

            "You made that noise."

            "What noise?"

            "The – (overdramatic attempt at recreating noise) – you know, that _noise _that you make!"

            "I did no such thing!"

            And thus begins a typical day in the life of Ronald Weasley.

            Every day – every _normal _day – was pretty much the same. He woke up starving, waited around for Harry to get his lazy arse out of bed, and headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast, where he would commence to eat everything placed in front of him. He then followed his daily class schedule, usually finishing off the homework for each on the way through the corridors. Around lunchtime, the typical clash with Hermione began, and lasted until breakfast the next morning, when she would proceed to make amends. 

            He glanced at the clock on the table next to him.

            12:17 pm. Right on schedule.

            "_Look_, Hermione, I'm trying to get some work done here, so are you going to keep on yelling at me, or help me out?" Said girl threw up her hands in disgust, and gathering up her books, stalked out of the room.

            "Ron, have you ever thought about what would happen if you occasionally stopped some phrases from coming out of your mouth?"

            Ah yes. Harry Potter, mediator and best friend. In Harry's typical day – well, Harry didn't _have _typical days – but if he WERE to have a typical day, he would attempt to patch things up between his best friends every day, right around lunchtime (ie, right after the bickering began).

            "…No." Harry shook his head, grinning. Ron didn't really understand what there was to laugh about – Hermione was mad at him again, and for no reason. He would never understand that girl… and there Harry was, smiling about it. Maybe he had a better sense of humor than Ron. 

            Ron knew that he'd completely bombed the Transfiguration test, of course. He'd crammed for animalian transfigurement, when he really should have studied ancient Transfiguration techniques. Hermione lectured him about it through the first ten minutes of supper, then apparently decided that she'd try and make amends early – break the cycle.

            "I'll help you study next time, Ron. Just promise me that you'll pay more attention in class." She looked at him earnestly, awaiting his reaction.

            He took a bite (if you can call it a "bite") of turkey. 

            "Mafnks, Ermonee, bud eye don' realdynee neeyelp." Harry rolled his eyes and sighed, and Hermione sharply put down her utensils.

            "Alright then, if you don't want my help, suit yourself. I certainly couldn't care less if you flunked out of Transfiguration, it doesn't affect me – but you _could _think about improving your table manners before gracing the rest of us with your _disgusting_ appearance." And with that she flounced out of the hall. As usual. 

            "Ron – "

            "I know, I know, mate," Ron sighed, after swallowing his large mouthful. "But if she wasn't mad at me about this, it'd just be something else."

            "Just make an effort to be _nice _to her once in a while – she's not half bad, you know," Harry winked. Ron didn't get the joke. In fact, he didn't get a lot of jokes that had to do with Hermione, and that's what all of Harry's jokes seemed to be lately. He shrugged and finished eating.

            Ron and Harry had been out on the Quidditch pitch taking turns on Harry's Firebolt. Harry had to go see Professor Snape about detention (again?) and Ron was left to make his way back to the Common Room alone. Unfortunately, it had been quite wet outside, and as luck would have it, Filch the caretaker was hot on his tail. He skidded around corners, trying to make up to the tower before he was caught, and enraged the Fat Lady by smearing a bid of mud on her luridly pink dress while clambering inside the portrait hole. 

            Could his day possibly get any worse? All he wanted was a nice cup of tea, maybe a relaxing game of chess with Harry (if the git didn't have detention for the third time!), and a nap in front of the Common Room fire. Naturally, though, Hermione (who, if you remember, is not supposed to forgive Ron for his past transgressions until mid-morning) walked in just as Ron was wishing for these small comforts. She shot a small glare at him, before approaching his chair.

            Ron fidgeted, looking for an escape. Surely she'd come to finish him off. Get him while he's down, and keep him there – that's the way those womenfolk all worked…

            "Sorry about earlier, Ron. I've just been out of sorts today."

            Always hitting below the belt, never play fair…wait… what?

            "Friends again?" She grinned tentatively.

            "Er… of course," Ron stared at her in disbelief. This wasn't supposed to happen. He had approximately ten hours and fifty-two minutes until Hermione was supposed to apologize. Something had to be up. Something was always up when Hermione apologized early. He began to scrutinize her appearance – that's what girls usually wanted, right? When they were nice to you, they were usually fishing for a compliment…

            It was hopeless. Ron could no sooner pick a needle out of a haystack than decipher what, if anything, Hermione had changed about her appearance. Gotten rid of her glasses? No, Hermione never had glasses, and if there were a spell for that surely she'd have told Harry by now… New robes? Nah, they all wore the same robes… Shoes? How was _he _supposed to know? Half the time he never wore the same shoes on his own feet. To be safe, or rather, to be as safe as possible, Ron decided to go with the tried and true 'observation'.

            "Hermione? Did you, er, cut your hair?" A huge grin broke out on her face.

            "Oh Ron, you're the first person to notice!" she squealed, and threw her arms around his neck. "Do you like it? Do you like it?"

            Come to think of it, it wasn't half bad. He told her so and she didn't even glare at him. It wasn't really such a typical day after all.


End file.
